We All Fall Down Sometimes
by purplepagoda
Summary: A rough case brings out secrets that no one expected. Will this case conclude tragically, or will the team dig up the truth. Can they heal the broken bones of the wounded? Some times the answer isn't in the bones, but in the heart, or in the scars.
1. Holes

She opens her eyes trying to get the picture out of her head. She slips out of bed, and tiptoes into the kitchen. She sits at the counter, on a barstool.

"What are you doing?" Michelle questions.

Cam just stares at her. Michelle doesn't say a word, she just takes the bottle, and pours it down the drain.

"Michelle!"

"Tell me why you wake up in the middle of the night."

"I can't."

"Then go back to bed."

"I can't."

"Why can't you sleep through the night?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Not if you never let me in."

"You shouldn't worry about it."

"What should I do? Let you fall deeper into the hole that you're digging?"

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

"Michelle, please go to bed."

"Not until you tell me the truth."

"I can't. I..."

"Whatever it is, it can't be that bad."

"Yes it can."

"Why can't you tell me?"

"It's not something you should ever have to know about."

"I want to help you."

"You can't."

"You should let me try."

"Michelle..."

"Camille," she says softly.

Cam looks away, blinking away tears.

"I wish that you weren't going so far away for school."

"Why are you having such a hard time with this?"

"I'm not good with goodbye," she answers.

"I'm not going away forever, I'm just going to college. I'll be home for the holidays, and on breaks."

"I just feel like I'm losing you."

"You want me to stay?"

"For you, you have to go. But for me I wish you'd stay."

"Why? Cam why do you have such a hard time letting go?"

"I just hate goodbye."

"Why? What happened that made you this way?"

"Sometimes life has a way of knocking you down so hard that you pray that you don't have to get back up again," she answers tasting her tears.

"We all fall down sometimes."

"And sometimes you don't want to get back up. Sometimes getting back up take everything you have. Everyday I live with..."

"With what?"

"I never told you why I left New York."

"No."

"You've never asked."

"I figured you'd tell me when the time was right."

"One day I woke up, and... I knew that if I didn't leave... if I didn't pack up my stuff, and walk away that I'd never take another breath."

"I don't understand. Someone hurt you?"

"Physically? No."

"So what happened?"

"I thought that everything was perfect."

"There is no such thing."

"Every time that things in my life are as good as they can get, the rug is pulled right out from under me."

"What happened?"

She walks away.

"Where are you going?" Michelle questions.

Cam slips into her room, returning with a box. She flips on the lamp in the living room, and sinks onto the couch. Michelle joins her. Cam slips the lid off the box. She pulls out a tiny box and hands it to Michelle. Michelle stares at the box's contents silently.

"I was married."

"When?"

"When I was in New York I was married."

"What happened?"

"There are some things that you can't overcome, no matter how much you love someone. Love isn't always a fairy tale."

"What happened?"

* * *

Booth rubs his eyes as he joins his partner. He stands by her side as she surveys the scene. For once she's silent. He stares at the remains of a house. A mile from the nearest neighbor-no one saw or heard anything. No witnesses to a fire that destroyed a house full of people. The fire fighters turn off the hoses. One comes out of the house, shaking his head. Temperance takes a breath, and steps toward him.

"Dr. Brennan," he greets her as he peels off his gear.

"What happened?"

"We're not sure, but... there's nothing left. We couldn't save anyone. There was nothing we could do. It was too late."

"How many?"

"Three so far, but... the upstairs collapsed, and we couldn't get into the basement. None of the beams are safe."

"We can't go in?"

"No."

"How many gallons of water?"

"More than I can count."

"Any evidence left?"

"I doubt it," he answers it.

"Just give me the bodies, and try not to contaminate the scene any further."

"You'll be back when the scene is clear?"

"You'll call me as soon as it is?" she questions.

"Of course," he agrees.

"Ok," she nods.

The fireman walks away. Booth stares at her in confusion.

"You don't want to look at the scene?"

"I do. But I can examine the bodies first."

"Ok," he agrees.


	2. When It Burns

Booth places a cup holder full of coffee on the table. Cam joins them. He hands her a cup. Cam studies the tables. Four tables.

"Four?"

"They're sending two more over," Booth answers.

"Any ID's?"

"Angela is working on it."

"What took you so long?" Booth questions.

"My cell phone was on silent," she answers.

Hours later Angela comes onto the platform. She stares at the bodies.

"Did you get any ID's?" Cam questions.

"Dr. Brennan was right. Two adult males, an adult female, and three children."

"Three kids?"

"Ava Henry age eight, reported missing by her parents six years ago," Angela answers.

"You identified all of the children?" Cam queries.

"Sort of," Angela nods.

"Continue," Cam insists.

"Michael Riley, age six reported missing by his grandmother three years ago."

"The third?" Temperance quizzes.

"That was the hardest. I found two potential matches."

"Two?"

"Grace Lucas age ten reported missing nine and a half years ago, and Bailey Fox reported missing nine years ago. It's difficult to be sure because they were so young. I used a program to digitally alter their pictures to what they would like now, and both are very close to the victim."

"Dr. Brennan is there anyway that we can get DNA from any of the victims?" Cam asks.

"I doubt it. The bones are very desiccated."

"Wait. Bailey Fox was taken to the ER two weeks before she disappeared for broken fingers."

"How does a one year old break their finger?" Booth questions.

Angela scrolls down, "Her three year old brother slammed her finger in a sliding glass door," Angela answers.

Temperance steps away, and moves over to the table with the remains of a ten year old girl. "Left hand? All of the fingers except the thumb?"

"Yes," Angela nods.

"It's her," Temperance answers.

"Who are the adult victims?"

"They have multiple aliases, and are wanted in at least four states. Grant Cooper, aka Greg Smith, aka Gary Peters. Hank Tyler, aka, Pat Ryan, aka Alex Benjamin. And finally Sara Frances, aka Lucy Yates, aka Bonnie Desmond."

"What are they wanted for?"

"Kidnapping, along with Emily Davis, aka Christina Bates."

Camille stares silently at the screen. Without a word she walks away. Temperance goes after her.

_He holds her tightly, but she pushes him away. She stares at him with big brown eyes. He wipes away her tears. He was her rock. He never let her fall, but right now she just wanted to crawl into a hole, and never come out. He brushes a stray hair off her face._

_"Don't!" She warns._

_"I love you."_

_"It doesn't matter," she answers._

_"Don't do this," he begs her._

_"Fall apart? I can't stop it."_

_"I promise that we'll get through this."_

_"I don't want to get through this."_

_"We can move on."_

_"I can't," she argues._

_"We have to let go, we can't stop living our lives."_

_"I can. You act like nothing happened. Like our pet goldfish died, and it's not a big deal. This is a big deal. This is...I feel like I can't breathe."_

_"Just give it time."_

_"Give it time? What is that going to do? It's not going to fix it. It isn't going to make the pain go away. This isn't ever going to heal."_

_"It will. We can put this behind us. When you're ready we can talk about..."_

_She cuts him off, "I don't want to talk about it. I don't ever want to talk about it. I don't ever want to think about it, but I don't have a choice. How can you act like this doesn't bother you? How can you be so cold?"_

_"I can't let myself fall apart."_

_"You can't let yourself do a lot of things. Just once I wish you would do what I ask."_

_"I did."_

_"No, you never had. I asked you for one thing, and you couldn't even do that. It's your fault."_

_"Calm down."_

_"Don't tell me to calm down. I hate you. I will never forgive you. As long as I live I will never forgive you. I don't want this anymore. I don't have a reason to stay in this anymore. I have nothing to lose. The only reason I had to stay, is gone."_

Cam sits at her desk. Her forearms rest on the surface of the desk, and her head rests on her forearms. Temperance enters the office, and closes the door behind her.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine Dr. Brennan," she lies.

"No you're not. What's going on?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she answers.

"I'm good at listening."

"Dr. Brennan, please."

"I know that some scars don't ever heal."

"What?" Cam's head pops up.

"Emotional scars. Some things never heal, no matter how much time we give them."

Cam studies Temperance carefully.

"You might be able to hide it from all of them, but I know. I might not be the best at reading people, but I know when people are hiding things."

"I'm not..."

"You don't have to lie to me. For yourself you might need to lie, but I know," she says softly.

"No," she disagrees.


	3. Lost and Found

_She sits numbly on the couch. The apartment appears normal. She knows that it isn't. In a room, down the hall, there is a room full of people. Police officers, and CSI techs, comb through an empty room. A quiet, peaceful room, with an open window. A window that never should have been open. One that had been shattered when it wouldn't open. _

_She stares at a picture on the coffee table. Her husband enters the apartment._

_"I came as soon as I could. What happened?" he questions._

_She is overcome with fury. She picks up the picture, and throws it at him. He ducks, and it shatters on impact with the wall. _

_"You're really asking me that?" Her voice is weak, and raspy. "Where the hell were you? How could you let this happen?"_

_"Calm down," he moves toward her._

_"Don't touch me. Don't come near me," she screams._

_"I'm sorry."_

_"Sorry can't fix it. Sorry won't..." her eyes overflow with tears. _

_Hours later she wakes up on the couch. She quickly leaves the room. She makes her way down the hall, pushing open the first door on the right. She looks in the room, and realizes that it's eerily silent. And cold. She steps into the room. She stops when she reaches a crib. She peers inside, and finds it empty. She sinks to the ground, realizing it's not a dream._

"Is Cam ok?" Angela asks when Temperance returns.

"She's fine. I think that she's just tired of all the kids that are coming through here lately."

"Yeah," Angela nods.

"Where did Booth go?"

"To check into the victims backgrounds."

"I need you to do me a favor."

"Anything."

"I need you to prevent him from finding out what is in their backgrounds."

"Why?"

Temperance doesn't answer. She follows Angela into her office. Angela takes a seat at her computer. She types a couple of words, and a dozen files pop-up. Temperance stands over her shoulder. She points to one name.

"Make it go away."

"What?"

"Make it so he can't see it," Temperance answers.

"Delete it?"

"No, but Booth can't see it."

"Why not?"

"It's not pertinent."

"Brennan what is going on?"

"Read it, and then..."

Angela clicks and begins reading before Temperance can finish her sentence.

"Why did they do it?" Booth questions Brennan as he drives.

"They couldn't have children, so they decided to kidnap them."

"Why wouldn't they just..."

She answers before he can finish, "They couldn't adopt because they had misdemeanors for breaking and entering in high school."

"They knew each other since high school?"

"Yes."

"Two couples?"

"Right," Temperance nods.

"How many children have they kidnapped?"

"They've allegedly taken eight," she quickly corrects, "Seven."

"Which is it?"

"Seven," Temperance lies.

"And the second woman? She's the one who found the children?"

"She worked as a nurse."

"I still can't understand how you could take someone else's child."

"People will do anything to get what they want."

"How did you get access to all of this? Why was I denied access?"

"Angela hacked into the files."

"So how old is the oldest child that they allegedly kidnapped?"

Temperance thumbs through papers, "He's seventeen. Christopher Jackson."

"And the other children?"

"Preston Kelly. He's twelve."

"And the others?"

"Kylie Turner, sixteen months old. And Ryan Bennett, fourteen years old."

"And the two new bodies?"

"Believed to be Emily Davis, and Preston Kelly."

"What about the other three kids?"

"The investigators on Ryan Bennett's case believe that he didn't make it out of the house alive."

"So then two kids are missing?"

"That's why we're going back to the scene," she answers.

"And how old were these kids when they disappeared?"

"Christopher was the oldest. He was kidnapped when he was five. The rest were three and under."

"So Christopher probably remembers his real parents?"

"He may."

The car stops and they get out. They walk the grounds. After an hour they move from the house to the barn. The barn, and field is empty.

"If they're hiding somewhere how are we going to find them? There are thirty acres of woods," Booth points out.

"If you had seven kids, in the middle of the woods, you'd have a play house, or something, wouldn't you?" Brennan questions.

"Yeah, you'd need something to keep them occupied."

Temperance follows Booth out of the barn into a clearing in the trees. He starts down a path. They walk for twelve minutes, without finding a thing.

"Nothing," Booth shakes his head.

Temperance steps off the path.

"Where are you going?"

She points, "Look, there are few leaves over there," she points to a piece of ground a hundred yards away.

He follows her. There is a thin layer of leaves on a three by three area in the dirt. He clears them away with his foot. He finds a piece of metal level with the ground.

"There's no handle," he points out.

She shoves it, and it flies to the side, "Because it slides," she answers.

"So you don't trip over the handle," he adds, handing her a flashlight.

He descends the steps, with her close behind. When they reach the bottom they find a wall of clay to their immediate left. The turn right, and another wall. He turns again, and at the end of the length of the wall to the right is a door. They quickly move to the door. It is a heavy metal door. Seeley pushes on it, but it doesn't budge. He pulls on the handle, but again it doesn't move. He tries to push it, but nothing happens. Temperance steps in front of him, and bangs on the door.

"Christopher? Open up. You can come out. We're with the FBI," she yells.


	4. Prayin for Daylight

_She sits in the nursery, quietly rocking a fussy baby. She sits in a rocking chair, in the corner of the room. She pats his back, but he continues to cry. She holds him close to her heart, and begins talking to him._

_"Benjamin shh!," she begs. The crying ceases. He stares up at her with big blue eyes. _

_"I know handsome," she coos, "You're missing daddy too. He'll be home soon." She strokes the back of his chubby hand. His eyes remain locked on her. She fluffs his tuft of jet black hair. He smiles at her. _

_"Are you home?" a voice calls from somewhere else in the apartment._

_"In here," she answers._

_Footsteps come into the room. He smiles at her, holding their infant son. "Is he giving you a hard time?"_

_"He was just waiting on you," she answers._

_"He wasn't the only one was he?"_

_She shakes her head._

_"Here, let me see him," he reaches for the baby. She stands up to meet him. She catches one whiff of him, and recoils. "You've been out?"_

_"I stopped to have a couple of drinks with the guys."_

_"You won your case?"_

_"Yeah," he answers._

_"You smell like booze, and cigars. You can have him after you shower."_

_"Ok," he agrees._

_She gets a phone call while he's in the shower. She slips into the bathroom. _

_"Mark," she knocks on the shower door._

_"Yeah?"_

_"I've got to go to work."_

_"No."_

_"Honey I don't have a choice," she argues._

_"I know, death doesn't ask you about your schedule."_

_"Obviously. If it didn't I haven't gone into labor during an autopsy."_

_"Go. I'll watch little man."_

_"Love you."_

_"Bye babe," he tells her from inside the shower._

Life always seems to knock us down when we least expect it. Some moments we live to regret for the rest of out lives. Not spending time with a dying loved one, or choosing to focus on school instead of being a kid. Putting work ahead of family. Leaving your two month old baby at home with a barely sober husband.

_She opens the apartment door, and instantly she knows that something is wrong. _

_"Mark?" she calls out. No one answers her._

_She steps into the kitchen. She finds a note on the fridge. -Had to go to work early. Called a babysitter for Benjamin. See you later. Happy Valentine's day. Love, Mark.-_

_She moves through the living room, removing her coat, tossing it on the couch. She pulls off her scarf, and gloves, laying them on the stand next to the couch. _

_"Hello?" she calls out. "Is anyone here?" She takes a breath, and after a moment of silence her heart skips a beat. With each step closer to her little boy's room her heart beats faster. She twists the knob, and pushes the door open. She finds the crib out of place. Her heart sinks as she steps into the room. She doesn't touch anything. She stops when she finds the broken window, leading to the fire escape. She feels her tears forming, and her breath hitching. She looks in the crib, and finds it empty. She looks out the window, and sees steps leading down the fire escape. She backs out of the room. When she reaches the hallway she slides down the wall. She rocks back, and forth, sobbing, as her fingers struggle to dial her cell phone. _

_"9-1-1 what is your emergency?"_

_"Someone has taken my baby," she cries._

She jerks into consciousness. She sits up in bed, struggling to catch her breath. She flips on her lamp, and looks at the clock. 3:11 AM. Another sleepless night. She slips out of her room, and takes a seat on the couch. She flips on the lamp, and turns on the lamp. She nearly jumps out of her skin when a hand touches her shoulder from behind. She turns around.

"Michelle..."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's ok."

"You still can't sleep?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Today is the day?" she questions.

"Yeah," Cam nods.

The door comes open. A young man with brown hair, thick muscles, and big green eyes stares at them.

"Christopher?" Booth questions.

"Yeah," he nods.

"I'm agent Booth. I'm with the FBI. This is Dr. Brennan she's with the Jeffersonian."

"I couldn't save them."

"Save who?" Booth questions.

"The kids. I tried. When I got home the house was already on fire."

"Are you alone?" Temperance asks.

"No," he shakes his head. He turns and points to kids sitting on the couch watching a movie. "They were with me, when I went to the grocery store."

_She stands in the doorway as the crime scene techs spray luminol. The room lights up. She cringes as they turn the lights back on. _

_"Who ever did this used a chemical to clean up any bodily fluids. We have no way of knowing how much blood there was."_

_"You think that he's dead?" she questions._

_"Ma'am..." the police officer begins._

_"Just tell me the truth."_

_"It's unlikely," he answers. He grabs an evidence bag. He holds it up to her._

_"We found this in the laundry hamper," he reveals._

_She stares wordlessly at a blue blanket with the name 'Benjamin' sewn in to it. _

_The officer waits for her to let him in. _

_"Come in," she offers. _

_He notices the bag sitting next to her._

_"Going somewhere?"_

_"I've waited six months for something to change, but you have nothing new to tell me. I can't stand it here anymore."_

_"You know that the lab confirmed the blood on the blanket to belong to your son."_

_"Yes," she nods._

_"I wanted to come tell you that we have a suspect. We matched one of the unidentified hairs to Emily Davis. She's known with three associates to have kidnapped several children, in at least three different states."_

_"You have no leads?"_

_"They kidnap a child, move to another town. Every time we get close they change identities and locations."_

_"So you're telling me that you just don't have the time to catch these people? Or possibly find my son?"_

_"I'm..."_

_"Don't say that you're sorry. How many of the children are dead?"_

_"We only suspect that one other child is dead. They aren't violent. The other child's suspected death was merely accident."_

_"Accident? That doesn't bring my son back."_


End file.
